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fallenhunnyapple · 3 months

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@ilikelookingatthings left a very long and question filled essay about Angel!Lu AU in the replies so now its time to delve into More Info about the AU! @fallenguitarhero is my Adam so I got his input for all the Adam-related parts of this. Under a cut because.... this is Very Long LOL (bonus art at the end)

I'm going to just Copy-Paste the answers I got when we discussed it

I do think that Adam actually subconsciously shifts blame to Lilith because he's very black and white in his views. He hates devil Luci but he thinks he can prevent angel Lu from going down that path if he just keeps them apart. Lute also believes this and ngl her view of Lilith is like...really awful internalized misogyny type shit. Both of them think its better the two never meet and Lute outright threatens Lilith to stay away. Adam is too possessive to try and shift Lu to someone else but he does like... try to push Lu back into friendship type feels. Adam is a dumbass about sexuality so he thinks if he brings Lu to do Masculine and Straight things it will fix this. Instead he ends up just spending even more time with him and making it worse. As for his trauma... yeah Adam tries to hide it. Mostly by changing the subject and acting like an asshole tbh. I've thought abt Lu finding out about Cain and Abel p much by mistake (maybe saw artwork of it, all the hell related stuff is hidden but they wouldnt think to hide art of Adam holding Abel's body or Cain's exile) and it breaking his little baby heart. Adam def has moments where like... his mind is busy w something else like a bad day or a nightmare and for a second he sees the devil instead of his angel. Adam always like... 'shit, sorry, i thought you were someone else- fuck, don't look at me like that, c'mon.' There are other issues he just... doesn't realize he needs to hide. They're right about Adam being cynical and like... telling himself Lu doesn't really love him. Even once they date, he's still insecure. At that point i think he'd tell Lu about Lilith leaving him for a friend of his (whose name he never gives) and his marriage with Eve ending badly. He avoids details. He prob talks way more about his kids and prob even introduces Lu to them... Lu being around might encourage him to work on his relationship with them. Adam's body dysmorphia is such a contrast from the Adam Lu knew before... i do think that with him hiding so much from Lu, he tries to make it up to him by making sure his life is perfect. He goes out of his way to keep his angel happy and his attitude spreads to his exorcists who accept Lu into their flock. tbh Adam's dynamic with them prob becomes way healthier over time due to Lu's influence. i think Adam does tell the truth about some things but leaves out the details. Like he says evil found earth and destroyed Eden but says it hurts too much to talk about it (not a lie) and tells Lu that it's why the exorcists exist, they protect heaven and the dead humans from it. Which is what the official story is anyway! i think Lu prob has the same info the average low ranking Heavenborne and winners do. If Lu pushed him too much Adam might admit there are things he can't tell him but frame it as a military thing - there are things only Michael, Adam and the high ranking exorcists can know. He feels a lot of guilt about lying. it weighs on him a lot. that and the stress of protecting Lu from his brothers honestly makes Adam act more subdued and tired than canon Adam. His eyebags are awful. It prob becomes obvious as time goes on that Adam is Not Well. He keeps his mask on for a looong time after the first time bc it helps him hide his feelings and self-regulate but when he finally takes it off it's obvious to Lu from how he looks that Adam is struggling mentally. Comparing him to how he looked in Eden makes it so clear.

For Lu's part of things. Of course he'd ask about Lilith. Especially after finding out that so long has passed and Adam is here, so Lilith is probably here too, right? I feel like because he missed... So much, the concept of Death to him still doesn't really sink in. Like even with the Sins, it's basically like he just Knows he can't See them again. So with Lilith its like Adam has to just lie the same as with Anyone else from Hell. And Lu is definitely heartbroken about Lilith being Gone.

And like, at the time, Adam isn't lying so he doesn't feel Guilty about it, he just feels bad seeing Lu so upset. The timeline of this is kinda indeterminate but it definitely is Earlier than the 7 years of Lilith being in Heaven. So when he first Appears, she hasn't left Hell yet. Who knows, Charlie may not have even been born yet at that point. There's no Solid point in Time for Lu to have appeared in Heaven, it's just... Earlier. He doesn't think to Look for her because he knows that if she's Not Already There, then she's Inaccessible. Otherwise Adam would have told him, he's sure of it. (Adam has no obligation to tell Lu when Lilith does get there and for the reasons stated above + the fact that the Elder Angels probably would try and deter any interaction between the two. he's left in the Dark about her arriving in Heaven. He doesn't know Adam has even made a Deal with anyone) He still misses her because Adam is Truly the only friend from When he's from left.

And tbh the mixed signals are what keeps Hope Alive for Lu. As much as he tries to be okay with friendship, he still wants more because he's In Love and Adam is the only thing that makes him feel Normal when his entire life and everything he knew was entirely up-ended. It's why he's so passive about it. He doesn't want to make Adam feel bad, but he sees Adam being so Conscious of him now and it makes him happy. He doesn't wanna Push it, but he still likes seeing that Adam is Aware of him like that now. Especially because it's not in a way where Adam is trying to push him away, Adam is actively spending more time with him!

The longer time passes, the more discontent Lu grows. Knowing he's being lied to/that things are being hidden, even by Adam, he is Curious and he wants to learn more. But he also isn't going to be reckless about Learning More. The thing is also he Doesn't Know what questions he should be asking. He could ask Winners things and get answers, its not like anyone would stop him from Talking to Winners, its part of his Job. But like... How would he even start to figure out what's Missing in his knowledge?

Also Lu is definitely Aware of how different Adam is from his Eden self. Like just Visually, it's so easy to separate them because Adam wears his mask. But when its just the two of them and Adam is maskless, Lu may be more susceptible to treating him like that. But he's also very aware of the fact that actually their Knowledge Base is completely flipped. Lu hardly knows anything and Adam knows Everything.

And like.... Lu Knows that being kept in the dark is probably 'for his own good' but as stated, the person who fell is Still him. So now instead of resenting/being upset that Humans were kept in the dark, now it's himself. There's no Fruit That Will Fix Things for him though. He's just left frustrated at his lack of agency in this. And honestly, what keeps in line Most is Fear. Since coming to this time, his family has been Nicer to him, he's actually getting along to some degree with his brothers who used to ridicule him (or worse) and he Knows it's only because he's 'behaving' now, now that Creation is over and Life Has Existed. And he's scared or what will happen if he steps too out of line. He doesn't have the refuge of going to Eden to visit the Humans if things go south with his siblings. He isn't allowed on Earth, he's confined to Heaven, so he would just be stuck with the same sort of things that ultimately drove him originally to commit the Sin of giving Eve the Apple (not that he's Aware of how it culminated) And Also he has Adam. He doesn't want to know what the consequences would be if they were to decide that they shouldn't be allowed to stay together. It would absolutely break him.

If Lu were to find out about the exterminations, he'd be just as Appalled by it as Emily was. Lu doesn't know about Sin, what that entails, how Sinners destroy everything. He hasn't had to live with it so he can't see any contempt or justification for their destruction. Lucifer hates them because they came in a ruined the world he tried to build in Hell. Lu doesn't have any such associations with them. He would just see them much like Charlie does, souls who made mistakes and who should be given the chance to Do Better and make up for it. (That's sort of what he is, in a way, too.) He would absolutely be upset and scold the fuck out of Adam and Lute if he knew what his besties were REALLY doing once a year-

As for the sexual stuff, Both Lucifers started without having a concept of sex or sexuality, so both of them are specifically shaped by their partners (literally in a way). So the Lucifer who learned and explored with Lilith is going to be completely different from the Lucifer who learned and explored with Adam in terms of How they have sex. It's a skill they learn by doing, so it's not the Same.

Thank you for sticking it out this long, have a doodle for your troubles 🙏

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #guitarduck #adam x lucifer #lucifer x adam #angel!lu au #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel ada #hazbin adam #my art

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queen-of-hawkins-why-ler · 5 months

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Am I the only one who thinks that the thematic and narrative climax of s5 (and low key the whole show) will be almost a direct parallel to the "You said yes" scene from s2?? Like same exact narrative and cinematic setup of Will being controlled by Vecna to the point where he's nearly gone or on the brink of death, and Mike being able to bring him back to reality with words of love???

Like I low key feel like that scene in s2 was supposed to serve as a precursor and foreshadowing to the climax of Byler rather than just standing on its own as an isolated event. We always talk on here about how Mike's monologue to El in s4 was supposed to directly contrast that scene and demonstrate how false and unnatural Milkvan's supposed "love" is, but we never really talk about just how awkward of a placement it is for the true and "authentic" love confession (Byler s2) to precede the clunky and false one (Milkvan s4). Like, imo it kind of leaves things on an awkward note and kind of hanging.

The only way it wouldn't be awkward or unfinished is if there ends up being a followup scene/parallel to the "you said yes" scene, and I think this is what's going to happen. I think Mike's monologue to El comes after the more romantic, authentic confession not only because it's supposed to contrast it but because the show is serving us two different "choices," two different options for Mike, two different scenarios. Not just for the sake of his character arc but in a meta sense as well, kind of like asking the audience, "which choice makes the most sense for Mike given the events up until now and the themes of the show? Can he be his most authentic and happiest self with Will or El?" And the natural followup to posing this dichotomy would be to answer this question for us by showing us in no uncertain terms why Will makes more sense for Mike as a long-term love interest.

The other reason why I believe this to be the case is because of the blocking of the s2 scene and the way it's set up: with Will being unable to move, unable to say anything or regain any control, and with Mike opening up and being vulnerable about his true feelings for Will [here comes the most important part lol] IN FRONT OF the other characters like Jonathan and Joyce (I can't remember if it was the entire rest of the cast in this scene or just those two?? I think it might've been everybody bc weren't they trying to get Will to communicate with them using morse code? I don't remember lmao) but anyways, I don't think it was a coincidence that Mike gave his grand "Do you remember the first day that we met?" speech not only to Will himself but in front of the other characters. Remember as well that Mike also confessed his "love" for El in front of an audience, and I don't think that's a coincidence either. I think it's leading to a final confession from Mike that will also take place in front of an audience and will serve as the "choice" that Mike makes between El and Will as well as the "choice" the Duffers present as being the correct narrative and thematic choice for the show. It's important that Mike's initial two confessions took place in front of an audience and also that his final one will, because this will also serve as Mike's "coming out" moment to the rest of the characters and to the audience. I think that Mike is going to have a second speech to Will that isn't just "I love you I love you I love you" over and over again like it was to El. It will be sweet and unique to Will and Byler's relationship except this time it will be explicitly, undeniably romantic so that no one will be able to even think that what he feels for Will is anything short of genuine, passionate, romantic love.

I wouldn't even be surprised if what Mike says closely parallels what he said to El except basically the opposite, alluding to the fact that it wasn't "love at first sight" for him but a slow, gradually building and gradually cultivating love that blossomed over the course of his entire life. Instead of "I knew then and there that I loved you" like he did to El, he could say something like, "I didn't realize it yet when I met you, and I'm not even sure I know when it happened, but I think I've spent my entire life slowly falling in love with you." And he says it with tears in his eyes and in front of all of the rest of the characters, who will also be crying (especially Joyce lol). And of course Will will just be sobbing even through Vecna's control over him, but it will be Mike's love that ultimately frees him from Vecna's hold over him. This would make sense, because unlike El, Will's story has never been about independence and breaking himself free, but about him and Mike breaking themselves free through teamwork a la "I think that we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're a team."

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havg02 · 1 month

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Fem!Batman headcanons (part 1)

◇Still similar to Bruce. Bryce is still as cold, prissy, reserved, stoic and can be distant--although more scolding but only when she's Batwoman because it's the only where she gets to show her 'undesirable' side/get to speak bluntly as she pleases. She has a childish side too, but it's brushed off as being 'cute/haughty' and rather than broody, she's more gloomy like there's grief in the air around her that makes you feel sad too, and she's less likely to yell in an argument since she gets kind of emotional. If she's done something bad, she'll just be quiet as she's yelled at, but if she's in the right, she'll raise her voice but she'll usually give them this passive yet scolding glance as she sparingly doesn't berate them and simply brushes past the one at fault--the fact she doesn't bother scolding them makes them feel more hot in shame.

◇As Bryce Wayne, she's also the same except she gets to be shy as there's no need to hide it bc people just brush it off and even found it charming since she's a girl. Maybe she's also more humble/vulnerable since woman tend to face more criticism (ESPECIALLY if they're 'too confident') making her passive, elegant, refined, ethereal, lovely, fragile, dainty and soft--just pleasant to look at/be around that will make everyone immediately turn into a gentleman/gentlewoman--a sharp contrast to Batwoman so that no one would ever compare them together. She'll pretend to almost faint at the sight of blood or make herself pale when anyone talks about unpleasant stuff so that people would think she's too soft/weak to ever do something as brutal as Batwoman.

◇Bryce would either be the snobby queen of Gotham or be the Princess Diana of the DC comics by donating to charities/orphanage and be every mother's favourite celebrity. And rather than a playboy she gives more of a princess from a fairy tale vibe whose struggling to find the perfect prince to marry, but Bryce definitely made rumours of being a secret man-eater just so that men would stop courting her/scare off any creeps who like 'pure, shy, innocent' girls like her. Bryce Wayne=coquette/old money. Batwoman=dark feminine/gothic. But they both are give off victorian era style because its affiliated with death/grief. She dresses up like Elle from Legally Blond, like in the movie Pretty Woman or those vintage barbies-- just classy 1930s or 2000 fashion.

◇She speaks in a pretty silky lithe voice with some childishness to it bc she's still sort of mentally a child due to her traumatic childhood. Yet when she's Batwoman, it's more low/breathy (cuz she tired yet full of adrenaline) that makes criminals immediately freeze. It's a lot more dramatic change than Bruce and Batman since a lot of their traits can be excused as just simple common man traits but she's still just as admired and respected, though probably more feared. But even though Bryce's so intimidating she's so ethereal in appearance that no one can help but stare at her secretly at how lovely she is, and the vulnerable sadness about her which isn’t so secretive when she can't help show it when she thinks she's alone doesn’t help either, only charming everyone even more into gaining a soft spot just for her.

◇Shares the same trauma traits too ofc (unhinged, avoidant, pushes away, paranoia.....etc) but displays them in a different 'less obvious way' since I feel like as a girl she would hide all these 'imperfections' behind a 'proper lady-like' appearance like being dainty, level headed, gentle, kind.....etc, in a way that won't ruin the mood in the air and it wont make her look weaker as it's hard to look tough as a woman, and since she's born in a wealthy family it would be ingrained in her to act like a mature lady. Because of that, Batwoman is known to be quiet, cold, elegant with a shy side. I'd like to think Bryce isn't as strong about the no-killing rule as Bruce is, especially if it regards children due to her motherly instincts but still preaches it anyway for more people to not resort to killing despite rough times as she doesn't want people to start thinking they're just killing anyone, let alone go to jail for it as well.

◇This is a joke, but if everyone all have a sort of crush on her, that'd be hilarious-- The Justice League will be troubled as they'll have to be around her the most. She drops something? Flash will pick it up for her before it even hits the ground. There's a giant robot terrorising everyone and she needs help but is too prideful to ask? Superman will destroy within a second to save her time and energy (and lowkey impress her). Her safety is compromised due to an injury? Wonderwoman will guard her! Is the batplane broken? That's okay, Green Lantern will carry her like a gentlemen!--they all just show support in a way that won't make her mad and tell them she doesn't need help and when she catches them staring with her appraising eyes, they immediately look away blushing while internally freaking out. Even her enemies speak to her with a bit of politeness as if they can't help it and they hate it!

◇This lady is the it-girl of Gotham, the queen bee. The gothic version of Princess Diana. She'll spend most of her cash on orphanage and schools when she's got money to burn from all the photo shoots with fashion/cosmetic companies like Dior, Chanel, Victoria Secret, YSL, Kate Spade.....etc. But the number 1 thing she uses is perfumed body powder to help her suit not stick/sweat, like she would use a big swansdown puff to dust it on her and I could even imagine her make her own one with soothing ingredients/chemicals/scents which instantly calms victims that it becomes a well known smell of comfort in Gotham and Batwoman signature scent. So when the police goes to a scene, they know Batwoman was here because they'll smell it in the air or when someone is getting mugged, they don't have to worry because they'll know that she's around.

◇But scent could reveal her identity, so Bryce makes the body powder washable so no one can smell it on her when she's in public. The scent is purposely made to be comforting/familiar like childhood so it would be powdery like baby powder and floral like your mom's makeup or flower garden at home/school, warm spicy with cinnamon for the nostalgic smell, yet intimidating with gunpowder. It may even contain a chemical that can turn violent urges into fear to lower the criminal's defences. But overall it's supposed to be such an amazing scent that it helps release calming/dopamine chemicals from your brain to distract you from the traumatic smell of blood or pull you out of dissociation. And it works, there's been so many people online looking for a perfume that smells like her and begging her to tell them the name of it.

◇But alas, Batwoman can't tell or else criminals might mistake them for her and hurt them. She couldn't anyway since it's made for her where it only smells good on her skin that the Batfam are lucky that they're close to her. It's the iconic smell of Batwoman that lingers in the Batcave. Another thing, bc of the calluses and scars, Bryce has SERIOUS hand/skincare. She always wears hand masks full of sweet almond oil, rose wax, lotions and violet water to bed and put nail oil/ handcream to keep soft pretty hands. As for her scars, she knows a bunch of beauty tricks or goes to special clinics to be pampered since again, she'll face more critism about her appearance as a woman and it'll be suspicious bc it's not common for a rich lady with a famous malevolent personality while men just can be brushed off as a lot of mens interests consist of a lot of workout. Sure, she'll still use expensive stuff like Erno Lazlo, Elizabeth Arden, Estee Lauder, Lancome and Jill Stuart.

◇And that brings up the rest of her body appearance. She's bound to have a muscular figure from all that training so Bryce would probably find workouts where she can stay slim while strong at the same time but her muscles obviously end up still showing so she has to make excuses to people that she's working out in hopes of staying younger and in good health now that she's getting older or that she just wants to 'tone up' her arms. She'll maybe even upload videos of her doing exercising to explain it all at once to everyone and claim she wants to help change people's views that women can be just as strong. Also, I think after she finds out that she can't carry her kids again soon anymore when she realises they could be too big to be carried anymore, like Jason who's already tall as her, she'll keep training just so that she could still be able to hold them incase there's danger.

◇Jason definitely mocked she won't be as dainty like she used to be anymore, until he has a flashbacks in the middle of a battle where he just wants to hide somewhere small and Batwoman flutters down, landing softly like a petal and her cape fluttering behind her like butterflies. She'll envelope him in a firm protective hold like a warm blanket with her cape as his nose fills in with her scent that instantly pulls him out of his state back to reality with immediate feeling of pure relief as he knows Bryce will go through hell and back to make sure her kids are okay as she gets him out of there. The Batfam won't dare say it outloud because of their pride but they really love snuggling & hiding under her cape like they used to as kids bc it's the first coping mechanism they used to do when they first started being vigilantes.

◇Bryce is clueless to this and just thinks of it as a sign that her kids still love her but if she ever asks, they'll deny it and low-key gaslight her into self-doubt and Bryce will get flustered while using prepared excuses. This is probably what makes up the terrible traits of Bruce that Bryce doesn't have, she gets manipulated her kids easily or let's them go more easily with a little firm scolding as she's more sensitive about how she is as a parent than Bruce (motherly instincts are stroong) and her cluelessness to dealing with youngsters is a lot more endearing because she tries so hard to figure out on her own but ends up asking Damian for help in defeat/embarrassment with hot rosy cheeks. Everyone teases her about it lightheartedly while Dick cooes at her in reassurance as he's chuckling.

◇Is more thoughtful/considering regarding to her kids feelings than Bruce because Bryce's just scared of being a bad mother as mothers tend to be more judged than fathers who can get away with things like being too busy to play with their kids, and fully knowing how she is, she heavily relies on giving them affirmation or just actions as it's the least thing she can do--like when she first adopted Dick, she was hesitant to speak to him and avoided him by going to work during the day and going to patrol during the night from worrying about how awkward she might come off but when Dick asked if she only adopted him to make her look good in the public eye, she felt so terribly sorry for him that Bryce decided she wouldn't care how awkward she'd look anymore since she found that seeing her kids feeling reassured and not left hanging was much better.

◇And it can be about anything, just speaking honestly. Like casually telling them she's been worrying that she might be suffocating with her overprotectiveness and telling them to make sure to tell her if they ever feel frustrated with her since she admits she still needs to be told off as well despite her pride since she loves her kids that she'd rather admit defeat than them to resent her. Scared of looking silly due to being unable to communicate<<<<<Just get used to communicating. She sucks it up as she fears hurting them more than herself, so it's highly unlikely she'd ever raise her hand at them unless they crossed a line or something really bad. But she'll still end up accidentally saying something pretty harsh out of frustration, too. If she can't say I love you at the moment, Bryce will just go up to cuddle/kiss them randomly and everyone has gotten used to it.

◇She's a purse mom, she's got EVERYTHING like snacks or coffee candy for anyone feeling tired, a sewing kit to fix costumes, an mp3 with soothing music or white noise, mini umbrella, chargers, hand sanitizers, heat pads.....etc. like a real life Mary Poppins. When she sees a child in distress, Bryce has the exact things needed to calm them down. And honestly it surprises the batfamily themselves but ofc, she's the Batwoman so everyone jist accepts it. But it can't be helped when she pulls a thermos full of hot cocoa out of nowhere, despite it being perfect for warming up nonetheless. She carries those lavender or lilac smelling salts for herself though, cuz coffee can't really be enough sometimes.

◇Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian all suffer from the hot-mom syndrome, everyone is drooling over Bryce, as Bryce Wayne AND Batwoman so they can't escape it in normal life and in vigilante life--like they are so OVER their friends asking about her and not so secretly crushing on her. But they mostly get bothered at how people look at her. There have been so many accidents of them punching someone in the face or breaking some bones as a civilian, and all of them are solely because they were saying something jaw dropping-ly sick or misogynistic, it brings this different type of rage in them. ESPECIALLY when they see them say it to her face and Bryce can't help but simply stand there with sad eyes despite the default kind gentle smile on her face, and just take it with grace. But not on their fucking watch, unbeknownst to everyone, these kids have their own personal level of anger issues.

◇Her relationship with her kids is the same except she's less of an asshole, just a suffocating mom who can't help but worry. With Dick, Bryce too made many mistakes with him the most with the one example above and tried to make up for it by spoiling him until she realised that was a terrible idea because the freshly grieving young Dick needed help and love, not be left alone and only given presents. She was also paranoid thinking he might think she's replacing his mother which she didn't like the thought of either so she made sure to tell him that she doesn't want to replace his mother and he can call her by her name, look at her as a mom, big sister or simply like an aunt. And she sees Dick understanding what she means, she's so relieved.

◇Bryce ofc tries to prevent ways to stop him from being a vigilante but when he leaves her no choice but to make him a vigilante, she's afraid what he might do if she still says no so she gets an idea and makes him a deal; she would train him until he at least became 16 where he would at least be almost an adult by that time. So she trains him as a way of also helping him with his grief which she enjoys because she feels like this is what she can really do as it was something they had in common. But the funny part is when Dick first sees her training, he's like ??? How does a dainty woman do something brutal like this?? Oh and we all know how angry Dick was as a kid that it made Bryce often not regret taking him in for his safety because she worried at the thought of him acting like that with someone else and be mistreated/misunderstood because of it then realise she's the perfect person to help him.

◇But Bryce still at least lets him join the young justice league/form Teen Titans as a way for him to experience firsthand and when he grows up to looking like he's actually doing well off, she starts to see his potential and relaxes, even thinking she could raise him to be better than her. Until one day when Dick gets shot, she realises she's been playing around her luck and the world had come to remind her of it so she fires Dick out of fear, like she fully has a silent panic attack which surprises Dick despite being mad. But being a kid, he doesn't understand and just wants to get out of her shadow so even though they don’t have a fighting match, he leaves, leaving her lonely again for the longest time but when she hears from Babs that he's doing well as she didn't dare ask him personally as she felt like she didn't have the right to, she's relieved that he's at least alright/happy.

◇Yet before Dick leaves, Bryce who knows she may not see him again after he spoke hurtful words to her, still asks him to graciously give her a chance to let him know that even if he wanter to leave him alone from now on, he's still welcome in this manor as he was everything to her. She even sent him birthday gifts/letters through Superman after he left since he was his favourite superhero, in hopes he'd let her do this too, saying how proud she is and what a good decision he made to leave her side as she admits to also needing to be 'faced with reality'. At first Dick is unsure what to think of her words at that day before he moved out and just ignored the presents but when he grows up to understands and reads the letters, he immediately kneels over, clutching his chest with heartache for her--maybe feeling guilt too as she wasn't as special as his mom, she was still one for the rest of his childhood.

◇He quickly returns to the manor to apologize at least for the hurtful words, only to be met with her gentle, forgiving smile and be embraced in welcome sorry arms that he didn't realised he had missed. He also missed being overprotected by her and secretly longings for her dotings again as it reminds him of his mother so he might be a little jealous of Jason at first, thinking she's shown him more love to him than she did with him. But Bryce is too scared of making him leave again so she doesn’t baby him again unfortunately, after all she appreciates him so much because he's like the blueprint for her in parenthood, he opened up/caved a way for her to know how to raise kids/deal with her kids moving on/to get used to viewing them as equals. Bonus points when she finds it funny when she sees Dick take on a parent role for others.

◇Dick in canon feels like he can't get away from Batman and his shadows and I think with Bryce, he'd feel the same but without having to fulfill a role. After all, its Batwoman and he's not a woman. BUT people might still be expecting a Batman to be debuted anyway cuz patriarchy says there's got to be a guy when there's a strong woman as if she's not allowed to be self made 😮‍💨 and that annoys Dick a lot since he knows the whole purpose of Batwoman being made to be alone in the first place, but again! I have this idea that when Bryce dies, people are going to wonder about the new batwoman or a Batman to fill in the space so if Babs or Kate somehow doesn't take her role, Dick or Jason might end up becoming the first Batman. But if Dick and Jason don't, then he'll just simply feel like he's always kind of affiliated with her, at least.

◇So Dick turns out a little better than with Bryce but he's still finds his life being raised by her bittersweet/gloomy than lonely in canon. He's still terrified of disappointing her ofc but he warmly knows she'll slap him for thinking that. But when Bryce meets Jason, she adopts him only temporarily at first after finding out the orphanage she sent him to turned out to be sketchy. And with her knowledge about his life, she makes up for it with infinite patience/love while she finds another orphanage for him so when she sees him open up for the first time, she's charmed by just how lovely he actually is. After the scare with Dick getting shot, she doesn't turn him into Robin and doesn't want Jason who was raised with violence be met with more violence. If he did, she'd make it clear that she doesn't expect him be as good as Dick so he wouldn't feel pressured/unconfident so he wouldn't grow to resent her like Dick did from being in her shadow.

◇When Jason starts to call her mom, she's anxious/touched/heartbroken for him knowing that he didn't have anyone to tell what a good boy he is so she always made sure that he knew that, and Jason was bewildered by her passion by it at first then left feeling awkward/little sad/comforted cuz y'know. Bryce was surprised when Jason turns out to be more sweeter/good at grades than Dick despite his brashness and she didn’t expect anything from him but she loved him so much she went to find his mom Sheila because she believes he deserves to love with his real mom as she firmly believed a child should always be with their biological mother for that special bond that would affect the way they live in the future. And before she gets them to meet, she trains Jason basic self-defense so that he could learn to defend himself and maybe let him be Robin for a few times so she could test him. Or just not at all.

◇And when Dick gets mad, she's very guilty since she knows how personal the mantle is to Dick but at the same time protects Jason from Dick's words and makes sure to direct his anger at her/explain it was only just a few times for a test. This probably puts Dick in a bad light to Jason as he hates seeing her cry. After Jason is reunited with his mom, Bryce feels so relieved as if he would be safer with Sheila than with her but when she finds out that Sheila might be working with Joker, she immediately stops/alerts Jason as she invesitgates. And when Jason tries to stop Sheila anyway and dies, she just crashes. Bryce feels like anything she does just goes wrong and is meant to be alone, and dissociates with a panic attack again. I don't want to change Bryce too much but once again, motherly instincts are strong so she'll make sure to kill Joker or won't.

◇Then she'll spiral because she had just killed so Dick/Clark is there for her and either of them try revive Joker to help her but Bryce's still very unwell and unsettled for a long time, which hurts Dick to see. She'll notice that his body is missing in the coffin as she'll visit his grave often with the huge mom guilt she carriew, and freaks out again bc she just lost him again and tries to focus on Tim until Jason comes back. Maybe Jason will let her go as he has a soft spot for her since Bryce had been a better mother than Sheila and he still desperately longs for her but he will still feel like Joker should've been dead completely if she doesn't kill him. Bryce is apologetic anyway as she tried to make up the love he was missing his life yet she couldn't prove that he was to kill for. If she does kill him, then all is well but......

◇She's hesitant when Jason says he's going to live as Red Hood and insists on killing bc she's worried he might die again but he's quick to shut her up bc she did all she could do/gave him a reason to live. It's only until she sees a wind of his skills and is proud. Remembering that he was never apologized to as a kid when he was being abused and his death making it worse, Bryce can't have the heart to scold him but still tells him not to kill too often as she doesn't want him to go to jail. She’s so sad that she couldn't see him fully grow but seeing him as an adult so tall/strong, she's just so happy he's alive. So Jason doesn't resent her as much here, yippee.....? But due to her guilt, Bryce probably tries to please Jason a lot by letting him kill and even hope he moves back to the manor despite her happiness for him when he's living fine with the outlaws.

◇This annoys Dick so much that he argues with her as she stands there infuriatingly quietly as she knows she's doing something bad but Jason defends her calling him the usual Dickhead insult which she can't help but find it funny even when she scolds him. She may have called Dick that one time. Yes it was personal and yes Jason is proud of her while Dick stands there stunned/butthurt. Jason will be the one to kill for her when she can't for her comfort. BUT when he's having troubles, he'll immediately run into her arms where he turns into a little boy again and gets to be vulnerable as he pleases. Bc of Jason's death Tim doesn't debute as Robin (more of this bit below and in part 2) so Jason doesn't go after Tim's throat or resent him this time, except help Bryce on what to do with him when she introduces him and tells him how he managed to follow them to the batcave. Cue Tim fangirling and them having a better relationship at the start.

◇Bryce is immediately alert after finding out Tim managed to follow them to the batcave and interrogates him rather scarily to scare him off. She's incredulous at how a kid like him managed to track them down and would be impressed if she weren't disheveled by the loss of Jason and speaking of which, she does NOT like this and tries to figure out a way to stop Tim from convincing her to be Robin. Dick doesn't bother suggesting on making Tim Robin to help move on from Jason like in Canon because she'll give him a look that could kill. At the end up Bryce will just do what she did with Dick (training Tim until he reaches at least 16) due to the paranoia that this boy could get into danger now that he knew everything. So, Tim doesn't debute as Robin yet and is kept a secret from the world until Jason comes back to life.

◇Being careful, Bryce is worried thinking she might treat Tim coldly out of grief and voices it to Dick but he just smiles softly reassuringly that if she were worried about this even before training him then she wouldn't and besides he would help. At these times she's reminded that Dick is capable on his own but soon after finding out Tim's life, she has what she thinks is some affection for him out of pity which she feels guilty since he deserve better treatment from her than but in reality it's motherly love mixed with guilt of moving on from Jason. She really does her best to not be mean and just at least speak level-headed with Tim. Only after Jason comes back, she realises she did care for him and is so relieved that she did her best on still being kind to him and remember to still make sure to praise Tim despite distancing from him when they weren't training.

#bryce wayne #batwoman #fem batman #fem!batman #fem!bruce wayne #fem bruce wayne #dc #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #robin #red robin

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notiddygxthgf · 8 days

Text

7. Behave

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ You need to behave ❞ ❝ I can try. ❞

★ c.w.: aki being a smooth criminal. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HI THEREEEE. im giving you some new chapter(s. yes. plural) before this week because i start my new internship and i know i will be super busy! also bc my cousin slash proofreader told me she would end her life if i didn't so. (her, just now btw: yeah. you know thats right!) anyway take this damn chapter. i HOPE YOU LOVED ITTTT i love tension i love aki hes such a sweet pea in this chapter. MORE SEXINESS COMINGGGGG AKAKAKA KEEP COMMENTING ILY ALL

★ w.c: .6.5k

shameless ; chapter index

"THANK YOU FOR COMING under such short notice," Makima began, her voice smooth and authoritative. She stood at the head of the table, her gaze sweeping over the room, which was empty save for you and her. "Today's agenda is straightforward. We have a new mission that requires immediate attention, and I believe it's crucial to ensure everything goes smoothly."

You shifted in your seat, trying to focus on her words.

Makima's eyes flicked to you briefly before continuing. "We have a newcomer joining one of our teams, specifically under the command of Captain Hayakawa."

No fucking way. You thought. There was no way – no fucking shot. Your heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of his name.

Makima continued, "While I have full confidence in Captain Hayakawa's capabilities, I believe it wouldn't hurt to have an additional layer of support."

She paused, looking directly at you. "Which is why you will be joining Hayakawa's mission alongside his team."

Before you could react, the door opened again, and the captain in question stepped in. His eyes went wide when he saw you, but he quickly masked his surprise, standing tall and composed.

Act cool, you reminded yourself. Don't be messy.

Still, it was hard to ignore him when you had spent the last week of your life replaying the memory of his lips on your skin. As if you hadn't spent all of last night and this morning anxious to see him again. Replaying the memory of his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise while you were on top of him.

Fuck.

"I apologize for the short notice," Makima said, her gaze shifting to Aki. "You will be taking on this mission with additional support to ensure its success."

Aki nodded, his eyes flickering back to you only momentarily. He couldn't stop looking at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. You tried to maintain your composure, feeling the weight of his gaze. If you stayed in that room any longer, you thought you would have exploded.

"Understood," Aki said, his voice steady. So deep, fucking hell – the sound of it practically had you squeezing your thighs together.

"Good," Makima said, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. "You're dismissed."

You bowed, and made your exit. He followed you.

As you and Aki walked out into the hallway, the tension between you was palpable. The door clicked shut behind you, and Aki turned to you, his voice low.

"Are you busy right now? Or after this?"

You shook your head, trying to hide the slight tremor in your voice. You were so happy to see him, it wasn't even funny. "Not really. Why?"

You followed him outside, the cool afternoon air a stark contrast to the stuffy meeting room.

"There's a cafe up the block from here," He said slowly. "Wanna grab a coffee with me?"

Yes. More than anything.

"I'd prefer something alcoholic," You answered. "Or sweet. Know anywhere a girl can get a soda around here? If not, a beer would suffice."

"I'd prefer something alcoholic," you answered, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "Or sweet. Know anywhere a girl can get a soda around here? If not, a beer would suffice."

Aki smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can't have you drinking on the job now, can we?"

You walked in comfortable silence, the noise of Tokyo's busy sidewalks filling the spaces between your thoughts. People moved around you in a blur of motion, but it felt like you and Aki were in your own little bubble. Aki walked side by side with you, his sword strapped to his back, the hilt glinting in the sunlight. The sun filtered through his bangs, casting dappled shadows on his face and making his features look almost ethereal.

Your eyes wandered, taking in the vibrant cityscape around you. Neon signs flashed overhead, and the smell of street food wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of blooming flowers from a nearby park. You felt a sense of contentment, an odd calm in the midst of the city's chaos.

You pulled over to a vending machine on the corner. Aki dug into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, dropping them into the slot with a clink. He turned to you, his eyes questioning. "What do you want?"

"Oh, uh..." you trailed off, glancing at the selection. "Dr. Pepper?"

He punched in the numbers, and the can clattered down into the dispenser. He retrieved it for you and then put in a few more coins to get himself a Coke.

You popped the cap, and he did the same. The crisp sound of the cans opening was followed by a hiss of carbonation.

"Cheers," you said, tapping your can against his. The impact made the soda fizz up and threaten to spill. You quickly brought the can to your lips, sucking up the overflow.

Aki licked the top of his can clean, his tongue darting out in a way that made your thoughts wander.

"It's so nice out today," you said as the two of you began to walk again, the city sprawling out before you.

"That's because I told the weather you'd be coming back," Aki replied with a smirk, his tone playful.

"Cornball." You laughed, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. The casual contact sent a thrill through you. "How have you been since we last saw each other?"

"Miserable," he answered.

You laughed at his admission. Then, when you realized he wasn't joking, you piped down.

"Has Himeno said anything about," You took a sip of your Dr. Pepper, "You know...?

"The two of us hooking up?" He answered like it was nothing, "No, she hasn't."

"No–" You sputtered, "I meant about everything else that happened."

"She hasn't texted you?" He raised a brow at you. When you didn't answer, he shrugged, "She'll get over herself."

Then, when you continued to look at him with an unspoken question hidden behind your lips, he added, "No one knows about us. Not here, at least."

Good. You thought. You wanted to keep it that way. Yet, for some odd reason, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your gut at the thought of other women laying their hands on him.

"About that..." You sighed. "Aki, look... I– you're a great guy, and I... it just... You understand why it can't happen again, right?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen the first time, either," He answered coolly – you stopped walking, and he stopped, too, letting the pedestrians pass the two of you by, "What?" He asked, "I think it's a little late for that, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. The worst part was that he was right. "Yeah, but I just... I dunno, I want to be– I want to do the right thing."

Aki sighed, "Look. I would never do anything you don't wanna do. Believe me when I say that you have full control of any situation that goes on in between us. At the same time," He took a breath, "I can't sit here and lie and tell you I haven't been thinking about you every day since you left. I will never stop craving you. In fact, I'd help you break your vows again in a heartbeat. Just say the word."

You felt the heat creep from the back of your neck to the points of your cheeks. You're insufferable, you thought, Insufferable and infuriatingly attractive.

God, I hate you. It couldn't have been further from the truth.

You began walking again. He followed suit.

"You gonna tell him?" He asked you.

You answered him without looking, "Who?"

With legs as long as his, it didn't take him very long at all to catch up to you – walking side by side like an obedient dog.

"Your husband."

The sound of those words coming out of his mouth made your heart drop. You knew he knew you had a husband, reasonably, but he had never acknowledged him verbally. Until today.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to seem unphased by him – a task that proved to be much more difficult than it seemed, considering that every time you looked into your husband's eyes, you wished they were his instead. "Tell him what?" You sipped your Dr. Pepper.

Your coworker raised a brow, deadpanning, "That you fucked your coworker."

His brazen remark made you all but choke on your soda, wiping the spilled saccharine fluid off of your lips. You were in complete and utter disbelief that he would be so open about it in public, like he wasn't at all ashamed by what he had done.

After a moment of silence, you replied, "I'll get to it. Look, we got into this... this fight before I left. It got pretty ugly. He's angry enough as it is. At the very least, I want to keep my life in Kyoto."

"Do you, though?" He hummed.

You didn't.

When the two of you passed a flower shop on the side of the road, you pulled over, drawn to a planter full of wildflowers near the front – pink and blue and gorgeous. You reached out to pinch one of the stems between your fingertips.

"Yes," You snapped back, gaze trained on the plant. "And if you want to keep this cordial relationship going, then you need to behave. I want you to behave."

He sighed behind you – voice much closer this time, like he was right behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stand to your right.

You didn't glorify him with a response. Instead, you brought one of the flowers up to your nose, giving it a sniff. It smelled fresh, as if they had just been picked this morning. It was a rare treat to find such unique flowers at a store.

You could feel his presence next to you – the warmth of his body right next to yours. The proximity was suffocating. He was staring at the pretty flowers, too. He was so close, in fact, that you felt his knuckle graze yours. You stifled a shudder but didn't move away.

His touch brought back memories of the two of you in bed together. The heat of his skin, the way he whispered your name, the intense look in his eyes.

"You murdered my happiness– our happiness. This is the end of everything, isn't it?"

"You are my happiness," He panted, licking a stripe from your clavicle to your jaw.

"Oh, fuck–" You arched your back, eyes rolling with bliss. "Murderer–" You moaned, "Murderer!"

The knot in your stomach was about to snap. You could feel it.

"Murderer!"

"Yes–" He breathed.

"Don't stop–"

"I won't."

His finger caressed yours, twitching, as if he wanted to hold your hand.

You stared at the flowers, trying to concentrate on their vibrant colors and delicate petals, but every nerve in your body was focused on the subtle pressure of his touch – every nerve was on fire. His knuckle brushed against yours again, this time lingering just a bit longer. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt through you that you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

The world around you seemed to fade, the bustling sounds of the city and the murmurs of people passing by becoming a distant hum. It was just you and him, standing in front of a planter full of wildflowers, the air thick with unspoken words.

I missed you, You thought, but didn't say.

Your breath caught as his pinky finger hooked around yours, the smallest of connections, yet it felt like a lifeline. It took everything in you not to turn your hand and entwine your fingers with his.

He shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours. The movement caused his fingers to slide further against yours, and you could feel the soft pad of his thumb tracing your palm.

Your heart was pounding inside of your chest.

He was close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. He reached out and gently touched a white flower, his fingers brushing against the soft petals.

"These are beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. You could hear the underlying tension, the same tension that thrummed through your veins.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He mused, eyes scanning your flustered face.

Slowly, rather than awaiting an answer from you, he pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, popping it between yours.

You knew it was wrong.

But, still, you couldn't resist the temptation as you wrapped your lips around the stick and breathed in.

Just as your fingers began to intertwine, you pulled away abruptly, your heart racing. The sudden loss of contact felt like a physical ache, but you forced yourself to move.

He was fucking addictive, and you felt like you were experiencing withdrawals.

"Sorry," Aki said. For the briefest moment, hurt flashed across his expression. It was quickly replaced by that deadpan, stone-faced facade that you knew so well, like it was only a moment of weakness."I'm gonna run to the bathroom. Don't get lost."

"Yeah, okay," You breathed in response.

He hesitated for a second, like he didn't really want to go, but eventually turned and left you alone with your thoughts. You stood there, staring at the flowers but not really seeing them. Your mind wandered, drifting through the chaotic mess of thoughts that had been stirred up since you stepped back into Tokyo.

You thought about the plants, the ones you admired at the entrance with their big, green leaves. They were beautiful. Your husband would never let you bring one home.

The memory of him – of your last interaction with him – left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your thoughts circled back to Aki. His words echoed in your mind:

It's a little late for that, don't you think?

Was he right? Had you already crossed a line that you couldn't uncross?

The conflict in your brain was overwhelming. On one hand, the allure of indulging your passions was tempting, intoxicating,even. On the other hand, you had a life back in Kyoto, a comfortable lifestyle that you knew well, even if it wasn't fulfilling.

You couldn't possibly give it all up for a man in uniform, could you?

You wandered deeper into the shop, your eyes glancing over the array of plants and flowers. The air was filled with the earthy scent of soil and the sweet fragrance of blooms. You trailed your fingers over the leaves of a potted fern, its delicate fronds tickling your skin.

You found yourself standing in front of a tall, leafy plant with broad, vibrant green leaves. It was stunning, and you could picture it in your living room, adding a touch of life and color to the space. But then the image of your husband's disapproving face flashed in your mind. He would never allow it. He hated the mess they made, the dirt that inevitably found its way onto the floor.

A sigh escaped your lips. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

You were caught between two worlds, two lives. One was predictable and safe, the other chaotic and exhilarating. And Aki...he was the embodiment of that second life, the one that made your heart race and your mind spin with possibilities.

Your thoughts drifted to the times you had spent with him, the stolen glances, the memory of his lips like a ghost on your neck.

It's a little late for that, don't you think?

You felt a pang of guilt. Your husband didn't deserve this. He was a good man, providing a stable, comfortable life for you. But comfort wasn't everything. There was a part of you that craved more, that longed for the passion and intensity that Aki brought into your life.

Your fingers brushed against the edge of a delicate orchid, its petals soft and velvety under your touch. You remembered how Aki's touch felt against your skin, the way his fingers trailed over your body with a mix of tenderness and desire. The memory sent a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus, to ground yourself. The logical part of your mind told you to walk away, to leave Tokyo and never look back. But your heart, your traitorous heart, whispered that maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes and turned to see Aki standing there. He was holding something behind his back.

"You ready to go?" He asked.

You nodded slowly, not knowing whether or not to feel relieved that he had interrupted your thoughts.

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright."

You were exhausted. Mentally and physically.

The two of you walked out of the shop, the unspoken tension still hanging in the air. It was as if nothing had happened at all between the two of you, and while you thought you wanted that before, you weren't so sure now.

Was it really too late to turn back?

The sun felt warm against your face, against the fabric of your Public Safety uniform that heated up beneath its rays. You took a deep breath of fresh air before looking at Aki again.

He looked beautiful in the sunlight. The golden glow hugged his pretty features – his perfect nose, the curve of his cupid's bow, the pools of moody blue in his eyes. When he was looking at you like that... he was breathtaking.

And he was... holding a bouquet out with one hand...? It looked like the flowers you had seen in the planter at the shop. Long, beautiful stems speckled with soft, pastel petals – hues of blue, pink and purple projecting from the bouquet like pretty little fireworks. Wildflowers, the kind you couldn't buy anywhere else.

You felt similar fireworks in your stomach. You didn't know which sight was more beautiful – the flowers, or him.

"Aki..." You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding. "What's this?"

"The flowers you liked. I asked the shop owner to make me a bouquet," He peered down at you softly, tenderly, as if his gaze could melt you like butter. "Do you like them?"

And, clearly, it could. Your expression softened immediately, and you took the flowers from him gently. "I love them, Aki. They're gorgeous," You paused, nearly saying 'you shouldn't be getting me these. I don't deserve them', but decided resisting him was hopeless, "Thank you."

He bought you flowers. He. Bought. You. Flowers. Your smile could power an entire city.

"You shouldn't have," You hummed, giving them a good whiff. They smelled even fresher than the ones you had smelled outside of the shop. "They're so fucking pretty."

He smiled stupidly, as if he couldn't help himself, "So are you."

As the two of you continued walking up the block – to nowhere in particular, at least to your knowledge – Aki began to speak again, "My roommates aren't home today. You should come back to my place. We can–"

"We're not doing that again," You deadpanned.

Aki frowned. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie. Have a few beers, bake something."

"I shouldn't be at your place at all," You reminded him. You would not be so easily swayed. "For any reason. Remember?"

"Not even if I make us dinner?" He tried to bargain with you. "I wanted to try something new tonight. Maybe you could try it for me. Give me some pointers, you know?"

Okay. Apparently, you would be so easily swayed.

"Alright, fine," You sighed. Pointing an accusatory finger at him, you added, "But I have to behave, Aki. You need to behave."

He only smiled at your words, swatting your hand away, "I can try."

You stood barefoot in the bathroom, watching yourself in the mirror. Your Public Safety uniform sat folded in a pile on top of the toilet. Aki's sweater – which he had offered you after it became clear that your afternoon rendezvous would carry on into the evening – hung off of your much smaller frame. The neckline was so wide that it threatened to slip off of your shoulder, and the sleeves fell far past your fingers.

He had given you a pair of sweatshorts to change into, too, but you couldn't imagine trying them on. At least, not when his sweater fell just above your knees like a nightgown.

And, for the love of all that was holy, the smell of him clung to the navy blue fabric. You could hardly bear to be wrapped in it – swaddled in the warmth of something you knew he wore over his own body.

You were frozen, staring at your reflection, the oversized sweater consuming your smaller frame. The way the fabric draped over you, brushing against your knees, made you feel small, almost protected. But that wasn't right, was it? You were married, and this—this was crossing a line. Crossing that line you just said you weren't going to cross a few hours earlier.

It's just clothes. Who cares if I don't wear the pants under it? It's not like I'm spreading my legs open for him.

You weren't sure who you were trying to convince.

You wanted to believe that, needed to believe it. After all, the sweater was practically a dress on you, and it wasn't like you were walking around with your ass hanging out. And the shorts? They didn't belong to you, didn't fit right. No, the sweater was good enough.

You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent once more. The warmth, the familiarity, it almost felt like a comfort you had been deprived of for so long. But you knew this wasn't about the sweater or the way it fit.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, you knew you had taken a moment too long. You released a weak breath, trying to act casual, trying to convince yourself that everything was fine. That you hadn't crossed a line. But deep down, you knew you were lying to yourself.

It wasn't just about the sweater.

Aki was in the kitchen by the stove, donning a black sweatshirt and gray sweatpants himself. He was hunched over a pot, stirring something that smelled delicious.

You sauntered into the kitchen, crossing your arms self-consciously over your chest. "Smells tasty," You hummed.

Aki turned around, licking something off of his finger. He looked as if he was about to say something, perhaps a witty retort, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips when he saw you in his sweater. His gaze flicked down to your shoulders, your sleeve-covered arms, the smooth skin of your legs that the sweater revealed – and he looked like it took everything he had to keep his mouth shut.

His expression softened, like you made him as weak as he made you. Then, like he hadn't promised to behave a few hours earlier, a smile most scandalous snuck over his lips.

You propped your hand up on your hip, quirking your brow at him, "What?"

He shook his head, but the smile never left his face. "Nothing," He laughed quietly, "You look cute. Am I allowed to say that?"

I look cute? You thought. You look cute.

Cute was an understatement, honestly. There was a sort of domestic charm to him cooking dinner for the two of you, clad in his pajamas, black hair down over his neck and hanging in his pretty face. It was dangerous – you could get used to a sight like that, and that idea frightened you.

"No," You bit your lip, fighting a cheeky grin of your own, "But, thank you."

Reasonably, you knew it was inappropriate. Still, you figured there was no harm in indulging a little.

You left the kitchen after that, skipping into the living room of his apartment – which was so, undeniably him, with its clean blue, white and gray accents – and plopping down on the carpet between the couch and the coffee table. You pulled a blanket off of the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders. Your can of beer sat open on a coaster on the table from earlier, and you took a hefty swig of it.

The TV was on, set to a soap opera with the volume down. You reached for the remote and turned it up (like you owned the place).

"Cookies are in," Aki climbed over the couch, sitting on the floor next to you. He set two dishes on the table. "Now we wait 10 minutes."

You practically began to salivate just looking at the food. There were pieces of chicken neatly sliced on the plate, topped off with a delicious sauce that smelled an awful lot like the one you had smelled Aki making earlier.

"It's Teriyaki," He said.

You picked up your chopsticks, popping a piece in your mouth and all but moaning at the flavor. "That's really fucking good, Aki."

"Is it?" He asked, "I thought I overcooked it."

"Just take the damn compliment, Captain," You answered him (while stuffing your face full of chicken).

Aki only smiled at you. "Do you want to watch anything specific? I have one of the Halloween movies in."

"Halloween's fine," You offered, "I'd say I could go for a romcom, but I doubt you'd have one of those lying around. Don't seem like that kinda guy."

"You'd be surprised," He hummed, holding his beer can up to his lips and taking a sip, "I don't own any, but, for the record, I can get pretty caught up in those soap operas on the TV."

"Is that so?" You grinned stupidly.

He turned the DVD Player on with the remote, using his other hand to feed himself a few more pieces of chicken. It was all so sickeningly domestic that it made your head spin.

Aki set his chopsticks down on the table, turning to you after the opening credits began to roll. "Mind letting me in?" He said, nodding toward your blanket.

The thought of sharing a blanket with him had you flushed and nervous. You shook your head, "Like hell I will. Go get your own blanket."

"That is my blanket," He corrected you, shifting closer, "Now, move over, before I steal it from you."

As you scooted away, a playful grin spread across your face. "You're not getting it," you said, holding the blanket tight around your body like it was a lifeline.

Aki arched his brow, his lips quirking up in a smirk. "We'll see about that," he murmured, inching closer to you.

You squealed, trying to push him away as he pretended to wrestle the blanket from your grip. "No! Get your own!" you laughed, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aki chuckled, effortlessly overpowering your resistance. "Told you, it's mine," he said, his arm slipping around your shoulders. Before you could protest, he tugged the blanket over both of you, trapping you in the shared warmth.

The sudden proximity stole your breath away. The room fell silent, the only sound being the faint murmur of the movie playing in the background. You tried to focus on the screen, but it was impossible with Aki so close, his presence overwhelming your senses. His cologne, the remnants of his cooking, the subtle heat radiating from him—it all wrapped around you, making your heart race.

Your eyes flickered to him, and you froze. He was already looking at you, his expression unreadable, but the tension between you was palpable. The space between your faces was impossibly small, and for a moment, you thought he might—

A shrill alarm pierced the air, shattering the moment.

"The cookies," Aki whispered, his voice low and rough. He pulled away from you reluctantly, the blanket falling from his shoulders as he got up.

You watched him as he walked to the kitchen, your body still tingling from where his arm had been. He moved with practiced ease, opening the oven and pulling the cookie tray out, grabbing a spatula to flick the cookies onto a plate. The sound of a blood-curdling scream from the TV pulled your attention back to the movie, but your focus was split, your mind still reeling from the closeness you'd just shared.

Hesitantly, you moved to the couch.

Aki returned to the living room, the plate of cookies in hand. He slipped back under the blanket without a word, settling beside you so closely that your thighs pressed together, the heat between your bodies almost suffocating. You didn't resist this time, letting him claim his spot, but the tension in the air was undeniable, thick like static electricity.

You both finished your meals in silence, the sounds of the movie barely registering as your senses were tuned entirely to his presence. Each movement he made sent a ripple of awareness through you. The way his fingers brushed against yours as he reached for his drink, the subtle shift of his leg against yours—it was all too much, and not enough at the same time.

What's wrong with me today? Am I in heat?

Desperate for a distraction, you reached for a cookie and took a bite, the sweet warmth of it melting on your tongue. "This is so good," you murmured, your voice coming out softer than you intended. You held the cookie out to him, offering it like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. "You have to try it."

He turned to you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart stutter. "Okay," he said, but instead of reaching for a cookie from the plate, he leaned in. Slowly, deliberately, his gaze never wavered from yours.

You froze as he crossed that unspoken boundary between the two of you. For a brief moment, you thought he might—no, he wouldn't—but then his lips brushed against the edge of the cookie, and your heart slammed against your ribcage. He took a bite, his eyes dark and intense, watching your every reaction.

He chewed slowly, almost deliberately, before he spoke. "That's good," he murmured, his voice low, resonant with an undercurrent of something that sent a fucking shiver down your spine. He licked a crumb from his finger, a simple gesture made unbearably sexy by the way his eyes flicked back to yours.

Your hand trembled as you set the cookie down, your mind reeling from the sheer intensity of the moment. The room felt too small, the air too thick, every second stretching out as you both sat there, teetering on the edge of something that felt inevitable.

The tension was unbearable, an unspoken force drawing you closer together. Your breath was shallow, every inch of your body hyper-aware of his proximity, the way his eyes seemed to darken with every passing second. The space between you was charged, electric, as if the very air was waiting for you to make the next move – as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.

Then, before either of you could break the silence, you both moved at once – all but jumping at each other in the process of linking your lips together in the middle.The kiss was fierce, desperate, as if all the tension that had been building between the two of you finally snapped, and the sheer force of it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

His hands were on you in an instant, rough and urgent, pulling you into his lap.

It was a mess of heat and need, his lips devouring yours with a hunger that screamed, 'I missed you. I'm tired of pretending like I didn't'. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it felt like you might drown in it. The taste of teriyaki mingled with the lingering sweetness of the cookie, a heady mix that only drove you further into the sensation of him, him, him.

You wrapped your bare thighs around his lower back, letting him pull you closer still. With your hips flush against his, you could feel him pressing up against you – hot and ready, just like the cookies were.

It had been years since you had felt desired like this. Would it really be so bad to indulge yourself a little more?

You could feel his breath hitch, his grip tightening on your waist as the kiss intensified, becoming something almost frantic. The world outside of this moment ceased to exist; it was just the two of you, lost in each other, in the heat, the taste, the sheer overwhelming desire as you ravaged each other on Aki's couch.

You could forget about his roommates for a minute.

Wait.

His roommates.

When you finally pulled away, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Your chest heaved, struggling to catch your breath, as you stared at each other, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and you could see the conflict there, the struggle between what had just happened and the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

'You need to behave'.

"Aki–" You panted, gripping the inky black tresses at the base of his neck while his kisses descended down the valley of your neck. "Aki, your roommates–"

"Fuck them," He mumbled against your skin. "Missed you."

And there it was, that warm pit of desire bubbling deep inside of your gut. The feeling of being desired. Of being missed.

A shuddering moan passed through your lips when he wrapped his lips around your sweet spot, right in the crook of your neck, and applied a gentle suction.

"I told you– we can't be doing this," You said (but did absolutely nothing to stop his kisses), "Oh, God, Aki."

You felt so weak. He made you weak. You couldn't possibly resist him.

"Aren't they– Aren't they coming?" Was your next attempt at stopping the moment (despite the fact that you most definitely did not want to stop, and made that clear by rolling your hips into him like a desperate whore).

"My roommates?" He smirked, sliding off the couch and dropping to his knees to press more kisses to your thighs, your legs. He peeked up, blue eyes glinting with mischief, "No, but you can, if you want."

"We can't..." You trailed off, but, fuck, when you watched him get down on his knees to press slow, tender kisses to your calf, you really, really wondered if you could.

"We can," He murmured, voice slurred against your skin. "Right here on the couch, if you want. Bedroom works, too. But do you want me to – is the question."

Want him... to do what...?

You thought of the last time you'd had him like this. The image of his black hair disappearing between your thighs, his tongue lapping you up like he was dying of thirst.

And you couldn't help the wanton shudder that overcame you. "I do, Aki, but..."

"Say it again," He peered up at you, eyes desperate.

"I.." You swallowed. "I do– I want you to... I want you, Aki."

He put his head down, pressing a kiss to your thigh, "Fuck, say it again."

"I... I want you, Aki," You breathed. It felt liberating to say it – no "but"s or "if"s attached. Just him. You wanted him in the most primitive and feral way that you had ever wanted anyone before.

"Then let me have you again," He murmured softly. He licked a long stripe up your leg, from your inner thigh to where the sweater ended. "I've been craving it all week," He continued, throwing your earlier words back at you, "You wouldn't keep a needy man waiting, would you?"

"No," You panted. Not knowing how else to sugar coat the words – and being, frankly, too exhausted for formalities, you cut to the chase. "I need you to fuck me, Aki."

He froze suddenly, wild eyes peering into yours like he thought you would never ask. "Yeah?" He replied, breathless. "Right now?"

"Please, sir..." You teased him. "You won't keep a needy woman waiting, will you?"

"But, your roommates..." You said. "What if they come home early?"

His hands slid up your smooth thighs, beneath the hem of his sweater, where they could grip your hips. "You'll be quiet for me, yeah?"

And his eyes, fuck, his eyes – he peered up at you, half-lidded, tipsy, and enamored by you. Who knew that the Devil Hunter could have such an ability to look as if he, himself, had been possessed by a Devil?

You told yourself you would be good. You told yourself that you would do the right thing.

"Yes," You exhaled softly, like it pained you to keep it in, "Fuck, yes."

You would just... start tomorrow.

Tomorrow, You thought as he slipped beneath your sweater and pulled your ass closer to the edge of the couch, Yeah, that's it.

Tomorrow.

a/n:

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

Text

a part4 of -this- ❈ dealer!ellie x reader / ending

warnings: none??

"i have a flight to europe. i'm leaving everything and going to bieszczady." your father said, stroking the humid glass full of a cold drink. "my plane leaves tonight."

you nodded. "the faster, the better."

"but i can't blame her," he continued, "she just wanted to survive, though..."

"don't defend her." you shook your head. "she's a traitor."

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you mechanically and mindlessly drank a glass of water, as your mind processed the events and emotions that have occurred. the coldness of the liquid filled your mouth, a comforting feeling against the heat of the emotions growing within you. you stared out into the kitchen, feeling dazed and aimless as the memories came flooding back. your memory of this moment was clear, sharp and vivid in your mind. it felt like a part of you disconnected from your body, frozen in space and time.

you heard a soft knock at the door, its subtle sound contrasting the intense thoughts churning within you. the sudden noise knocked you out from the daze you've been in, your mind suddenly thrown into a state of alertness. your body has been on autopilot for who knows how long, the mundane actions from the last few days becoming distant. the knock at the door acted as a beacon in the dark, drawing you back to reality. the sound pulled you out of the memories and back into the present, as you moved towards the door to answer.

you could predict who's on the other side, really.

ellie.

every feature of her face was recognizable, but your view of her was through a veil of confusion and anger. your eyes narrowed in distrust as you took in this unexpected turn of events. she seemed concerned for you, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that there is some ulterior motive hidden behind her friendly demeanor. there was a hint of lingering attachment. part of you felt like you should turn her away on the spot, while another part of you still craved her presence — there was still some leftover affection.

suddenly, you found yourself pulled into the embrace of ellie's kiss and your emotions were thrown into turmoil once again. her hands brushed the side of your face as she pressed herself closer. the feeling of her lips on yours was a rush of pure pleasure, the intensity of the act jolting you and awakening the lingering affection you felt for her. despite all the pain and anger you felt towards her, you couldn't help but be swept away by the heat of the moment. a weak "ngh—" left your throat. as the kiss deepened, you were flooded with the memories of your time together, the highs and the lows all crashing in on you at once. your body decided to respond automatically, your lips kissing back.

you hopelessly clenched your fist and hit the crook of her neck, though you didn't put any strength to the move, moreover you had to fight your own arousal. ellie didn't pull away, instead her grip on you tightened and she began to lead you deeper into the house. you could feel her body pressing against yours, the heat of her lips still upon you.

you broke the kiss but your face was still as near to hers as possible. "i wanna kill you—"

"i'm yours." she pressed her forehead to yours. "you never broke up with me, y'know that?"

you took a deep breath and she could feel you exhaling. "i can fix that."

"there's no need to" she hummed, taking your hand and interlinking your fingers. "everything's fine."

through the corner of your eyes you saw the clock, which in big, red lines showed the numbers: 10:47 pm. your father's plane must already leave.

was it really that easy?

or was it just a fake happy end?

✧˖°

the bieszczady was bcs my friend forced me to write that ahxusb so hi fellow polish hoes <333 at the end i want to thank everyone who supported this lil drabble series🩷 i skipped the whole talking stage cuz its written out of boredom and nothing serious but im still glad you decided to read it !! mwah mwah

taglist: @bellaramslover @gold-dustwomxn @loverg1rlll @juliluvsu @timmy-27 @marianeski @kuromicoree @inf3ct3dd @mikellie @elliewilliamsonlygirlfriend @syrenada @drunkzuko @florencepughismybae @weridcattty @kanksaint @villainousbear @coff1nn @emst4rr @thehungrygayterpillar-blog @skylerwhitwyo @macaroni676 @cupid1ink @xen222 @onlinelesbo @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @mochiivqi @lilylynne11 @sevvenspit @williamsblogxx @707bnnyy @poopypeen @agajahan @kali-1014 @lullsss @corpsebridenightamare @planetloverr @lil-elliesgf @littlegingerperson

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader fluff #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams x female reader

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cellophaine · 1 year

Note

Can i request a Professor Matt x Student Reader (she's like 21) where he tutors her and they spend so much time together he ends up falling in love with her but doesn't say anything bc he doesn't wanna scare her away one night he's walking her to her place it starts to rain they share a moment and he ends up kissing her she feels the same way its sweet and innocent (no smut plz i just want some fluff)🥺

Lost & Found

Pairing: Professor!Matt Murdock x GN!Student!Reader

Warning: professor x student relationship (nothing shady), troubled family matters, fluff, bad writing.

Author's Note: Happy exactly one year and two months since I received this request! I'm sorry for taking too long to answer, and I hope you will still enjoy it. If not, that's okay too!

Share and feedback are greatly appreciated!

GIF Credit

"Are you … listening?"

As if the fog was lifted, the curtains were drawn, and the stupor evaporated, you found yourself in Professor Murdock's office once more. Only then did you realize that you never left it in the first place. You ran your hands over your face as if to physically remove the protective film wrapping around your skin so tight you couldn't breathe. All you wanted to do was to sink into the softness of your bed and stare at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep.

"Sorry, professor. I'm here. I was just– I've just remembered something I need to do, uhm … after this."

You forced your tired eyes to focus on the man sitting on the other side of the dark wooden desk. Your vision roamed over the pair of red-lensed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the slightly tousled but well-kept hair, the harbour grey dress shirt on his proper posture opposing your slouching. Everything about him was a contrasting reflection of you, and the realization made you sit straighter in your chair.

"Are you okay? You were quiet for a little bit there. You didn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'm great! I'm sorry, what was the question?"

You attempted a smile, not that it mattered, but you hoped it would somehow weave into your voice, casting a guise of genuine interest on top of the fact that you didn't pay attention.

"Is everything okay at home?"

You cast a tentative glance at him, taking in the slight frown on his lips. The question sounded foreign, slightly out of place, as if it had no right to be so ambiguous and unintentionally intrusive at the same time. You did not doubt that he was annoyed with your inattentiveness, which was what landed you in his office to begin with. You hoped that was all to it.

"No– I mean, yes! Everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

The words rushed out in one breath as if they were strung together and tugged hard by the defensive pull of your voice. If your abrupt outburst offended Professor Murdock, he didn't show it. His face didn't give anything away, and certainly not his body language, which stayed hard to decipher. But you tried anyway and drew to the conclusion of nothing.

"I received your midterm report, and it wasn't something I expected from you, especially after the excellent research you handed in a month ago. You've missed deadlines on recent assignments, and, on top of that, Connor has told me you haven't been paying much attention in class."

An icy shroud of dread settled over you. You knew you didn't do too well on midterm since you were sidetracked by a family matter on top of a busy schedule that left you no room to breathe, but to get snitched on by your professor's teaching assistant? That was the new low you didn't expect to hit. You tried to go for just enough to pass, but even then, it was proven that the bare minimum was out of your reach.

"What did you expect from me, then?"

The question was harsh, like a bitter retaliation that didn't come out right. In all truthfulness, the indignant remark was weak, just like how you felt at the moment. The unwelcoming feeling of inadequacy brought you back to the years of living under your mother's roof. You felt like you could lose it at the mere mention of expectations, of something you could only chase after, never able to fulfill. You released a shuddering sigh. The recent incident with your mother really messed with your head.

Professor Murdock cleared his throat; his body angled toward you in a careful manner as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

"You're a bright student, and … forgive me if I overstep, but I feel like there is something else going on outside of class that affected your performance."

His carefully chosen words manifested in an acute assessment pierced through your guarded exterior. The last sliver of resolve held onto its fleeting moments by the frown on your lips before fading away.

"Nothing I can't handle, professor."

The futile attempt sounded hollow even in your own ears, and you had a creeping suspicion that it didn't escape your perceptive teacher.

"I'm here to listen if you want to talk. My doors are always open."

Your frown deepened. How many times have you heard that sentence? One too many times, from one too many people. School counsellors, friends that didn't really mean what they said, and even your own mother. At this point, they sounded like a remix of each other, preaching the same words for the moral satisfaction of those who said it to you rather than your own good. What was the difference between them and what your Criminal Law professor had to say?

"Thank you. But like I said, everything is great."

You kept your tone light, letting the brusqueness mark the finality of this discussion.

"Is that all you wanted to discuss with me? Can I go now?"

You couldn't wait to leave this room and its confined undertone, but your professor motioned for you to stay. He opened the drawer on his right; his hand rifled over the Braille-labeled files until he eventually stopped and pulled out a slim folder. He pushed it towards you, gesturing you to open the file. You were met with your report, littered in red ink and Connor's neat handwriting, and on top of the page was a pitiful capital F.

"You failed midterm. For this reason and the fact that you have not handed in your last few assignments, I have to assign mandatory tutor sessions for you with two hours a week at the minimum. You are required to check-in with me every other Thursday during my office hours. I will reserve a time slot just for you, and I don't take absence of any reason lightly, unless it's absolutely necessary."

His stern tone sobered you, and you realized how serious your situation was. This meeting wasn't a gentle reminder but a warning of what was at risk.

"I'm sorry, but I can't afford to do that. Between school and work, I really can't."

Being one of the core staff at Sugar & Spice, your schedule was filled with classes and long hours at the bakery. The manager was too stubborn to accept that the shop needed more people, which made the job that was once easy and nice turn into a test of your patience and limit on a weekly basis. You lived close to campus, but the shop was so out of the way, making the convenient location wasn't worth it. You stayed for the above minimum wage, free food and drinks, and the hours that helped you stay afloat in this expensive city.

"Retaking classes will only cost you more financially as the faculty stated at the beginning of the semester. You will have to take summer classes if you want to catch up with your program in September, and that will only slow down your progress at Columbia."

You had to admit it; your professor was right. You dug yourself into a hole, even though it was involuntary. As much as you wanted to blame it on your circumstances, there was no point. After a few moments to calm your frantic mind and racing heart, you sighed, knowing you had no choice.

"Alright. I'll take your advice. I'll do it."

You closed the file before you, finding the red ink overwhelming your anxious state.

"Do you have any recommendation for tutors? I don't really … know anyone here."

It was hard to admit and even harder to say it out loud, but it was already out there.

"There's no need for that. I'll personally see to your progress. I willl be your tutor."

The library was crowded, a rarity for a late Friday afternoon. You eyed uneasily at the textbooks, laptops, and water bottles strewn on the tables, taking up more space than they needed to. It wasn't worth fighting for a spot with study groups that seemed to spawn nonstop. You turned to your professor, asking if he wanted to move to another area, and he was almost too eager to agree.

You took professor Murdock to the second floor, finding your familiar way to a small spot overlooking the courtyard, away from the buzzing of rustling paper and whispering people. You looked at your professor, taking in the way his body language seemed more relaxed than it was downstairs. He reached to feel the table before setting his messenger bag on it.

"It's quieter here."

The easy smile on his face made the casual assessment feel like a compliment. You nodded, getting yourself situated beside him.

"I know. I usually come here to slee– study. Study. Between classes."

Your face heated up at the terrible save. To your relief, professor Murdock didn't seem to find fault in your slip-up if the small smile and the quick raise of his brows were any indications. He simply suggested you start with your textbook alongside your failed report. Your study session began.

You worked in comfortable silence between questions and explanations. You appreciated how professor Murdock allowed you to re-explore the concepts and lectures mostly on your own with his help. The sky outside darkened as the time moved with the number of notes you had taken, which was a lot. The only reminder of time was a rumble in your stomach, which felt like thunder in the small, quiet space. You checked your phone to see that you still had about a half hour left. You would have ignored it if it wasn't for the gurgling sound, louder this time, once again reminding you that you missed lunch. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you attempted to cover the aftermath by clearing your throat. You hastily wrapped an arm around your midriff, hoping the thick layer of your sweater would muffle any impending noise. You were about to go back to your notes when your professor spoke.

"Shall we take a break?"

You shook your head, then immediately chastised yourself for being a forgetful, inconsiderate fool.

"No, sir. I'm alright. I'm on a roll right now, and I want to keep that going."

His head slightly tilted to the side, and from the new position, the dull light above and the fleeting sunset outside the window cast its dying rays over his face like a moody painting. It sharpened the angles on his face, sculpting a grimness in his features — a beautiful contrast to his softness, his kindness.

"Are you sure?"

The concern and warmth in his voice only fueled your determination to keep going. You wouldn't dare inconvenience him in the smallest way.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Turning to your notebook, you quickly picked up your train of thought and proceeded from where you had left off. Professor Murdock took that as a sign for him to go back to his papers. And you continued to work in silence.

Some time passed until a small beep sounded beside you and pulled you out of your head. Professor Murdock touched his watch and turned to you.

"Your two hours of this week are done."

You blew out a sigh. The session went by quicker than you thought and was not half as bad as expected.

"When will you be free next week?"

You flipped through your journal, disturbing some grocery and drugstore receipts until you reached the page for next week.

"Oh, shoot."

You muttered to yourself, your eyes flitting over all the reds, greens and blues filling up the week like an intense game of territory, except for one little spot after an eight-hour shift at Sugar & Spice and your check-in with him. You wanted to have the rest of the precious half of the afternoon and all night to yourself, doing nothing and maybe watching mindless content while tuning them out simultaneously. But then, the thought of the expensive and unignorable fee of retaking his class appealed to your logical side, and you grimaced, knowing that it won.

"Uhm … I have some time to spare after my office hours with you on Thursday."

You glanced at him, watching a strand of hair artfully fall on his forehead as he quickly tapped through his device.

"Is that okay?"

After a moment, he gave you a nod.

"That will do. I can give do a quick check-in, then tutor you afterwards."

"That sounds good."

You added the date to your schedule, already mentally mapping out the quickest bus route from the university to your apartment. Professor Murdock gathered his stuff, and you made no move to do the same. His hand searched for the last of his document, which sat next to your notes. You gently slid the file into his path, and he acknowledged your assistance with a small smile. When he had gathered everything, his blazer in the crook of his arm, the chair tucked neatly back to where it was, only then he realized you weren't coming. You looked at him at his lack of movement and cleared your throat.

"I'm just going to stay here a little while longer. I think I can get this part done."

His mouth opened, then closed again at the absence of an answer. He gave you an understanding nod.

"See you in class tomorrow, professor."

"I will see you. Have a good night."

You returned to your notes, tracing back to where you left off. The gentle taps of professor Murdock's cane melted into the wooden floor in soft echoes as he made his way out. Soon, it was just the rapid scratches of your pen on paper.

You were so lost in your head that you didn't pay attention to the presence of another person entering the room. When they stopped before your table and lingered within the peripheral of your vision, only then you looked up and was greeted by the unexpected sight of your Criminal Law professor.

You straightened up, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Professor! Did you forget something?"

He shook his head, and you noticed his flustered face and the tousled hair, which looked like it was gently run through by the wispy hands of the wind.

"No! No, I didn't. I'm just here to give you this."

He held out a brown paper bag and only let go once you had a hold of it. With a peek inside the bag, you recognized the logo-patterned wax paper from the sandwich and soup shop just a little distance beyond the campus' ground. You hesitated, taken aback by the oddness of the situation.

"Is it … for me?"

He bobbed his head, confirming the obvious.

"Take a break. You've done enough for today."

Speechless and still confused, your mind scrambled for something to fill in the silence.

"Isn't food … not allowed in here?"

From the lower angle, his face tilted towards you, and the red glasses slid lower on his nose, exposing a part of his eyes. He flashed you a cheeky smile and what resembled a wink from the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't."

You couldn't help a cheesy smile from breaking out, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Uhm … thank you, professor Murdock."

He flicked his hand as if to say it wasn't anything.

"There's no need to thank me. And, please, call me Matt."

You swallowed, stammering to oblige his request.

"Thank you … Matt."

The soft chuckle was endearing and unexpected, like almost everything else that happened tonight.

"Have a good night. Don't stay out too late."

"I promise I won't."

With a final nod, he turned and walked away, leaving you to the brown bag and quietude once more. You rested your face in your hands before giving your flushed cheeks a few taps as if doing so could take away the embarrassment. You took out the wrapped sandwich and a small bottle of water. He must have heard the noise your stomach made. You exhaled deeply before placing the water on the table, taking out the sandwich and unwrapping it. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling it warming you up from the inside even though the food itself was gradually getting cold.

You thought of professor Murdock while you ate, of his kindness and thoughtfulness for someone like you who was a stranger to him at the very core once you had stripped down all the social niceties. You couldn't remember the last time someone bought you food, much less take care of you like this. Maybe he felt pity for you, a failing student who couldn't look after herself, the logical part of you screamed. But a smaller yet just as persistent part of your heart whispered otherwise. He helped you because he cared about you. Maybe … you deserved that. Your eyes swelled, and a tear slipped down your cheek. You aggressively wiped it off, feeling foolish for crying over a little sandwich. You took a deep breath through your damp nose, trying to control your emotions by playing with the brown bag to distract yourself. When you piqued inside, a decent amount of napkins was at the bottom, and that, somehow, was the final stroke. He included napkins for you. You put the sandwich down and put the heels of your palms against your eyes, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming. You allowed yourself to cry a little more before finishing the sandwich and leaving for the night, your belly full and your heart warm.

Less than a week later, you found yourself, surprisingly, not spacing out during professor's Murdock lecture. Instead, you just felt sleepy. You shouldn't have stayed up so late the night before. You went from being unable to sleep to working on the homework to falling asleep at your desk just to wake up three hours later, groggy and late for class. You would have a closing shift at the bakery later today, only to return at 7 AM the next day, leaving you only an hour to travel to Columbia afterwards. You were exhausted already, and you didn't know how you would survive tomorrow through a full shift on top of your check-in and tutor session. You thought of injecting yourself with the crappy coffee they sell at the cafeteria that always made your stomach rumble in the most unpleasant way. But it worked. Perhaps all the stir from the coffee kept you bright-eyed and wide awake.

You rubbed at your eyes, hoping to clear the drowsiness that had started closing in at your waterlines. Bracing a hand on your chin, you stared your watery eyes at the big screen projector, willing your mind to read the words. But the room was warm, Matt's voice was soothing, and the boring slides with uniformed font served as visual comfort. If you were a little more awake, you would have been startled at the ease of thinking of your teacher by his first name. But for now, a little shut-eye wouldn't hurt, would it?

…

You jolted awake in your chair to a friendly face. So friendly that it alarmed you, making you jump in your seat. Your professor held his hands up, showing that he sensed, or felt, or rather, heard the screech of your chair.

"Are you alright?"

You cleared your eyes, blinking a few times to confirm that your teacher was crouching at your table, a look of concern in his expression. As a reflex, your hand shot up to touch your mouth, touching the moisture gathered at the corner. Even though you knew your professor couldn't see that, you still felt conscious enough to wipe the drool off with your sleeve.

"Class ended about ten minutes ago. Are you okay?"

Class ended. Class ended. It meant you had wasted your precious time you could have used to run to the subway to catch the train going to Greenwich Village, where your cursed job was. You looked at the time on your phone just to panic even more before hastily gathering all the contents on your desk.

"Thank you for … uhm … letting me know! I'm so sorry but I have to leave right now I'm so so late for work."

You were on the wind, and you couldn't stop, not even for a breather. Your notes and pen were shoved untidily in your bag as you hoisted the tote bag over your shoulder. You shot an apologetic tone towards your confused and concerned teacher.

"See you tomorrow, professor Murdock!"

Just like that, you took off from the awkward situation, leaving the consequences to be dealt with later.

You felt like you were already dead, arriving at your check-in with five minutes to spare. You sat on the bench outside professor Murdock's office with your head on your folded knees. You could still smell the sugar cookies woven into your hair, cinnamon hugged your clothes, and the sweet scent of everything else clung to your body. Your nail beds were decorated with flour, and you tried to pick them off. You had to stay late at the bakery for the time you missed. You barely slept before coming back to open the shop. And now, you anxiously waited in suspense about what was coming and another two hours of studying with your professor, who had been nothing but kind to you, and you had been nothing but a nuisance to him.

Speaking of which, the door opened slightly, and you could hear the tail end of a conversation that seemed to hang onto the more awkward end. A woman's voice, closer to where you were sitting, profusely thanked professor Murdock for his help, to which his smaller reply said he was only doing his job. The woman's voice increasingly affirmed that her breakthrough in last week's assignment was solely his doing. The conversation went back and forth and nowhere else until it finally settled on an overenthusiastic goodbye and "see you in class." The door finally opened fully, and a girl your age walked out. You recognized her being in the same classes as you, always sitting in the front row. Her cheeks were flushed as she walked away without paying attention to you. You were glad. Things didn't have to get even more awkward had she known you were eavesdropping, even though you weren't trying to.

You distanced yourself from the uncomfortable seat and announced your presence. Professor Murdock, standing at his desk, beckoned you to come in.

"How are you?"

He asked with genuine curiosity, making a part of you swell with delight. Your heart pounded in your chest, eager to swallow the attention he gave you whole, like a dying plant at the first drop of water after days of being abandoned.

"I'm… I'm fine. Just a little tired."

You lingered at the back of the chair, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"I'm very sorry about falling asleep in your class yesterday. It was not my intention to do that."

He chuckled softly, dismissively waving a hand, almost as if he had already forgotten about it.

"Hey, it's okay. I know that my class can be boring. I should switch it up if I want my students to actually learn something."

Your face burned bright red with embarrassment. It burned so deep and hot that you missed the mild and casual sarcastic note in his tone. You lowered your head, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes.

"No, it's my fault. I'm very sorry. I will try not to do that again."

You willed your voice to stay steady and hoped it would fool your professor. The thought of every humiliating moment you had accumulated throughout the entirety of your relationship with him nagged at the back of your head, too stubborn to let go. Oblivious to the conflict being played repeatedly in your head, professor Murdock assured you it was okay and gestured for you to take a seat.

The check-in went better than you thought. He noted your improvements and gave you pointers on how you could improve. As you were left working on your assignment, the sound of the Braille keyboard, rustling papers, and gentle hums of air conditioning drew a small yawn from you. It seemed like you had been trapped in a misty, never-ending fatigue and functioned solely based on will and just enough sleep to make it by.

You were beyond exhausted, but you couldn't fall asleep again after the spectacle you made of yourself yesterday. Your eyes watered and blurred the sentences before you. None of the words followed the ruled lines. They were a scrawling mess of half-nonsense and whatever you could draw from your cluttered mind. You pressed a silent yawn into the palm of your hand before tapping your cheeks, making muted pats on your skin. When that didn't work, you reached for your travel mug of lukewarm coffee and welcomed the burned liquid on your tongue. You grimaced, wishing you had smelled it before taking a sip.

Professor Murdock cleared his throat from across the table, and you shot up straight like an arrow, nervously looking at him like a student who was caught playing hooky in the washroom. He pushed the glasses up on the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes behind the red lenses.

"We can call it a day here."

You looked at your phone, seeing you still had another fifty minutes left. He fixed you with a gaze in your direction, his hands linked on the table, almost as if expecting you to comply. You translated it into displease, even though he hadn't explicitly expressed so.

"But we are not done yet. There's almost an hour left."

"I know. I thought you could use a break. You've done enough already."

How could he tell that you were tired? Was it because you were quieter? Was it because you didn't ask as many questions as last week? Did he think you were a nuisance, and that your presence was grating and unbearable? Didn't he want you around? Of course, who would? Not even your own family wanted to be around you. At that thought, you felt the familiar sting of rejection, reminding you of your past. You didn't want to relive it at this moment, so you focused on getting out of there as soon as possible. You closed your notebook harder than necessary and hastily gathered your stuff on his desk. You hated how you felt so helpless, so emotional so quickly at the most mundane thing. His gentle calls for your attention were ignored and brushed aside as if his words were only dust. You had gotten all of your stuff in, but before you could leave the way you did last week, his hand shot out to hold you in place, startling you. His touch was warm on your wrist, firm yet gentle.

"I hope you are not offended by what I suggested."

You dismissed him with a light scoff.

"Offended? No! You're right, I am a little tired, and I don't want to be a burden. I'm sure you have better things to do."

His hold on you tightened, not to the point of hurting. It was to accentuate what he had to say next, and he hoped the true meaning of his concern would get to your senses before the irrational part of you would.

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought we could stop here since you seem tired."

He took a brief pause, considering his next words.

"Did you come here after your job? At a bake shop or a cafe, perhaps?"

How did he know? You repeated your thought to him, and seeing your professor gradually turn pink was an odd sight. He scratched the back of his neck, drawing your attention to the flushed skin there.

"This, uhm, might sound creepy, but … I smelled baked goods on you. Cinnamon, sugar cookies, and coffee, too. I took a wild guess."

You blinked, surprised at his astute observation.

"You're … right. I work at a bakery. How can you tell?"

He tapped his nose with the other hand.

"I just … I have a sensitive nose. Works better than my eyes. My friend compares me to a dog, all the time."

You weren't sure if you could laugh. The broad smile and soft chuckle that brightened his feature told you it was okay. So you did, feeling the tension slowly retreat until it disappeared completely. You shook your head.

"That is … impressive. Wow! I work at Sugar & Spice in Greenwich."

"Oh! Frank raves about how fresh your bread is all the time."

"We use an actual flour mill to make our flour! It's huge, and it takes up so much space in the shop, but that's how we get fresh flour, so …"

You felt yourself inching deeper into a tangent, so you stopped yourself. Why did you have to ruin a perfectly fine moment with unnecessary comments? At the very least, your professor didn't seem to mind your rambling.

"I thought you could use some time to yourself. You seem tired, and I don't want to force you to work more than you already have."

His reason seemed rational now that you had stopped overthinking. His hold on your wrist made you want to open up, something you hadn't done in a long time.

"Can I tell you something?"

He nodded.

"I'm … it's … really embarrassing that I need one-on-one tutoring. I've always been a slow learner, and it seems like nothing has changed after … all these years."

You quickly added.

"And I do appreciate that you're doing this for me. This, all of this overthinking, is just … something I have to work on."

His hand gave another firm press.

"I mean this with all of my heart. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone needs help every once in a while. I want you to know there is strength in accepting that you need the help."

Your eyes widened, feeling the weight of his words seep into that part of your mind that had always craved the empathy you rarely allowed yourself. You sniffed dryly, suppressing the wave of emotion that threatened to break. A whisper of gratitude was all you could manage. Your professor nodded and let your wrist go, and the absence of his hand took you by surprise. You found yourself yearning for more of his warmth.

"Go home, and get some rest. Don't worry too much about the lesson."

You thanked him again, said your goodbye, and left without the weight on your shoulders when you first came in. That night, when you settled in bed with an audiobook on your headphones, your mind tuned it out. But it wasn't wandering anywhere like it usually would. You followed the path your mind was on, finding yourself lost in the memories of Matt and what happened that afternoon.

You wanted to do something nice for him, and what would be better than surprise cupcakes on no special occasion at all? Your heart pounded against its cage, and when you passed the decorated paper box to him, your hands touched. His fingers lingered on yours, and before you could truly revel in the sensation, it went away in a blink of an eye.

"Thank you for this. I can't bake to save my life, so a treat like this is rare."

"Maybe I can change that. I can bake for you."

You didn't think much of what you had just said, but your overthinking mind would agonize about that later. What exactly did you offer? It's not only baked goods, and he certainly doesn't need your companionship, you thought. You wanted to extend a part of yourself to him and the entirety of your affection that seemed to slowly but gradually get harder to ignore the more time you spent with him. It had grown so large that your mortal body could barely contain it.

"This is great! You didn't have to do this."

"I just wanted to say thank you for helping me."

His hands searched for the rim along the handle, tugging the box open, revealing the sweets inside.

"They smell heavenly."

His face brightened, and you felt your own warmed at his praise. He took one in his hand and offered it to you.

"No! They're all for you!"

"Come on. Don't let me enjoy these delicious cupcakes by myself."

He was playful, but his intention was nothing short of sincerity. How could you say no to a face like that?

You gave in, accepting it timidly, and waited until he had one in his hand. You peeled back the paper and took a bite. The softness enveloped your tongue in a warm embrace; the sweetness crashed on your taste bud like a gentle caress. You looked at your professor, whose brows shot up at the first bite. His soft moan of bliss was endearing, and you found yourself wanting to drink the sound in, hoping the resonance would stay and echo in your mind so it could keep your heart beating just a little faster like how it was now. It was the tiniest fragment of joy that warmed you, making you want to keep it close to your chest and cherish it to the best of your limited capability.

A smear of frosting lingered at the corner of his lips. With a casual passing thought of how adorable he looked, you reached across the desk, and the pad of your thumb swiped at the cream before you were fully aware of what you were doing. You slowly retreated your hand, feeling the mortification of your forwardness. You weren't the only one affected by the gesture. Matt was, too, judging by the way he swallowed hard, his lips parted to take a deep breath as if he had forgotten how to breathe. None of you dared to speak, not wanting the moment to end, but eventually, it must. Matt cleared his throat softly, and you braced yourself for the inevitable "that wasn't appropriate," but to your relief, he only smiled.

"Thank you. It would be embarrassing and unprofessional of me to walk around with frosting on my face."

"You're very welcome, Matthew."

You continued to eat your cupcake, bashful with the praises he lavished you with. The creamy frosting still lingered on your finger, and after a brief hesitation, you brought it to your lips before licking it off your thumb. You revelled in the exhilaration of your boldness. You felt like you crossed a line you weren't supposed to, but at this point, it was too late for you to turn around.

And when you tossed and turned later that night, when you couldn't deny yourself the truth any longer, you would come to the hopeless realization that you were in love with your professor. All that was left was to tell him as you so selfishly wanted him to know of your fondness for him, but you wouldn't dare shatter the fragile attachment to adhere to your selfish want.

The study sessions started not to feel like a torture device designed specifically for you as you found rhythm within each other. They had become the place where you enjoyed your time the most. Matt brought coffee to fuel you for later days that turned to nights. You bonded over the occasional pastries you brought in. It was an inconsequential thing, which quickly became an unspoken tradition. You found he particularly enjoyed the red velvet cupcakes smeared with buttercream frosting. Nevertheless, he loved whatever you brought in and never failed to show you how much he appreciated it.

It felt like the invisible veil between you was removed. Neither of you dared to take that first step forward into the other side out of respect and the delicacy your positions held. Still, it felt nice. You didn't have to put your guard up all the time, and you were weirdly okay with it — everything was within your comfort zone. There was little pressure to be someone else, no expectations you couldn't meet. Within the four walls that his presence occupied, the expectation to do well was there, but at your own pace. You didn't have to struggle. While things with Matt had been good, the other part of your life had started turning its head, gearing full speed toward a fatal end.

Your mother had stopped all types of communication. It'd been three weeks since her last request asking you to stop contacting her and many messages and emails from your end begging her for a talk. Your whole life had been a preparation for this, yet, when it came, you were left in shock, in the pain that never eased or went away. For as long as you could remember, familial love was something you never had, and you envied those who had it. Sometimes, the absence of love and care from someone you were close to dulled you, but the smallest acts of kindness hurt much worse in return. It cut you deeper than indifference did, grappling with your heart. The way Matt treated you with patience, tenderness and support filled the empty space in your chest with an ache that grew over time. To think that he was once a stranger, yet, he cared more about your well-being than your mother ever did. Matt showed you that despite your fatal flaws, you were still worthy of love.

The year came to an end, and you were relieved to see that you passed all of your classes. Your final office hour with Matt was on a rainy afternoon, the type of weather that made everything moody and drenched in sorrow, fitting for your state of mind. The meeting was a fruitless use of time since the semester was already over, but you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. You didn't want to say goodbye yet.

The sky poured in fine droplets by the time you were done. You waited as professor Murdock locked the door and walked out together. Neither of you said anything as you stood at the edge of the building, listening to the rainfall. You didn't bring an umbrella. You turned to him, and farewell words left a bitter taste on your lips.

"I guess this is it. I'll … see you around campus."

The forced smile on your face dropped as you placed your bag over your head. You hastily took half a step before his hand shot out, stopping you before you could walk out of his reach.

"Do you have anything for the rain?"

"No, I don't. But my apartment is not too far from here."

"I'll walk you home."

He didn't even hesitate.

"No no no no, you don't have to."

"I insist. I can't let you walk home by yourself in this weather."

He pulled out a well-loved umbrella from his messenger bag. It seemed like he wouldn't take no for an answer. You sighed, nothing of annoyance, only a little breathless.

"Can I at least carry it, please?"

The soothing sound of the rain was secondary to the thunderous beat of your own heart. The walk home was quiet since you couldn't find it in yourself to properly engage in a conversation when all you could think of was the feeling of his left hand resting in the crook of your right arm, which was holding up the umbrella. His hold was delicate, and you relished in the way it made you feel. Matt didn't seem to mind the quiet as you walked through the busy streets, occasionally talking about nothing in particular.

Eventually, the familiar build of your apartment complex loomed close, but you didn't want this to end. So you walked past the building and continued onward aimlessly for what felt like a little while. Matt leaned his head close to yours; his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Your apartment is quite far away. Good thing I'm going with you, or else you would be soaking wet by now."

His casual comment made you slow to a stop, pulling him with you. A look of concern touched his slightly furrowed brows.

"Are you okay?"

You shook your head, unable to look at him. You looked down at your boot-clad feet and his worn Oxford shoes as if you could find courage on the ground you stepped on.

"No … I'm not. I'm so sorry for lying, but we walked by my place … five minutes ago."

You needed to explain yourself as the look of concern on his face deepened.

"I didn't say anything because …."

He was quiet and so still, hanging onto every single word you said.

"Because … I … I like you."

Three simple words, yet the relief of their weight was immeasurable. Now that Matt knew, you felt the rush of regret start to pour in.

"I like you. And I'm sorry I'm so selfish that I made you walk with me even though my apartment is back there. I want to make my last few minutes with you last as long as possible. I'm sorry for even saying all of this–"

Your words were cut off by the touch of his lips on yours. Matt pulled you in by the small of your back, and your heart soared on its timid wings. Your hands hovered on either side of him, unsure of their limit on the newfound territory. As if Matt could sense your hesitation, he pulled back, and all you could think of was how much you would regret it if you let him go. You tugged him back to you by the lapel of his coat with more force than you anticipated, his body crashed clumsily into yours, and you found him again with more certainty this time. His lips were soft, brushing against yours in firm strokes, affirming the reality you hadn't grasped yet. His reciprocation was real and tangible, like the touch of his fingers caressing the bare skin on your neck, holding you against him.

All of his and your emotions were poured into the kiss, albeit slightly clumsy at first, until you found your rhythm, for actions were the only thing that allowed you to express yourselves fully at this moment. Words would be saved for later, as there was only him and you and the all-consuming kiss. Your hand lowered as you dropped the umbrella to the ground so you could hold onto him. Your hand found its way to rest at the back of his head; your fingers carded through the damp, slightly curled hair. Neither of you cared about the rain or the people walking around you as you were lost in the ardent embrace, letting the intensity pull loose at the thread of your longing for each other.

You broke away first, letting out a soft gasp for air. Your eyes were wide open, taking in Matt's swollen lips as you caught your breath. He looked as dishevelled as how you felt, and the small smile on his lips only made your already frantic heart beat faster.

"I like you too—more than you could possibly know. I didn't want to say anything because I thought you wouldn't reciprocate."

Hearing those words from him gave you an immense sense of relief.

"Besides, it's hardly appropriate."

You chuckled at the irony that was your situation. You absentmindedly brushed away the droplets on Matt's face despite the rain still descending upon you.

"Was. I'm not your student anymore, remember?"

His smile broadened at your reminder. His head dipped slightly, and you could see his eyes crinkled in the corners in the most endearing way through the rims of his glasses. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm before gently pulling you in by your jaw for another kiss. This time, it was softer, with all the sense of indulgence the two of you had. After all, you had all the time in the world for each other.

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